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1919 
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malipjml Copyrighted (in England, Ear Colonioe^ and 
States) Edition of the Works of the Bast Authors 


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No. 377 


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JUST WOMEN! 

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BY 


COLIN CAMPBELL CLEMENTS 


Copyright, 1919, by Samuel French 


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Amateurs may produce “Just Women” without % 
payment of royalty. All other rights reserved. 


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First produced at San Francisco, Little Theater. 
Later by Carnegie Repertory Theater and Eugene 
Woman’s Club. 

PRICE, 25 CENTS. 


New York 
SAMUEL FRENCH 

PUBLISHER 

28-30 WEST 38th Street 


London 

SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltd. 
23 Southampton Street 
STRAND 




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BY 

COLIN CAMPBELL CLEMENTS 

u 


Copyright, 1919, by Samuel French 


Amateurs may produce “Just Women” without 
payment of royalty. All other rights reserved. 


First produced at San Francisco, Little Theater. 
Later by Carnegie Repertory Theater and Eugene 
Woman’s Club. 


New Yoke 
SAMUEL FRENCH 

PUBLISHER 

28-30 West 38th STREET 


London 

SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltd. 

20 Southampton Street 
STRAND 


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PS 3505 
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JUST WOMEN 


CHARACTERS 

Mrs. Warren 
Betty 

Mrs. Pickering 
' Mrs. Lawty 

Mrs. Romney 
Lady Bloshire 
Clara 

Scene : The play takes place in the living room of 
the Warren home. It is during the early part 
of the Victorian period and Mrs. Warren’s 
home is filled with atrocious furniture of that 
period. At rise of curtain Mrs. Warren is 
sitting before an open fire at the l. knitting. 
Clara comes in softly and lights the lamp on 
the table near the window at the back and pulls 
down the shades. 

Mrs. Warren. Is that you, Clara? Will you 
please light the lamp—the big one. It is so dark 
here—the fog is very thick this afternoon; although 
I have lived here for forty years, I declare I shall 
never get used to it. It is always dark in Northamp¬ 
ton ! (Clara gets as far as the door ) Clara, will 
you pull the shades—one never knows who might 
look in—people are getting so bold nowadays—so 
bold. (Clara pulls the shades and starts out again) 
What time is it—the stage should be in at four or 
thereabouts—do you suppose anything could have 

3 


4 


JUST WOMEN 

happened—happened in the fog, you know.—Clara, 
do have a nice dinner to-night. Betty will be so 
tired, poor child. I am so glad the women of North¬ 
ampton do not know she is coming to-day. It is such 
a long way, such an awful long way to London—it 
must be all of two hundred miles. Oh yes, Clara, 
don’t forget to make the tea rather strong to-night 
•—not too strong—just so—and, Clara, we might 
have a little jelly with our meat to-night—current 
jelly—and you may use the best napkins—just to¬ 
night. We must not use the good ones too often 
as I want to keep them new for the- 

Clara. For the what, m’am? 

Mrs. Warren. Eh? What did you say, Clara? 

Clara. ( Shouting ) What is it you want to keep 
the new napkins for? 

Mrs. Warren. I want to keep them for the— 
never mind now, Clara, I just want to keep them. 

Clara. Yes ma’am. 

Mrs. Warren. Oh dear, I hope Betty will be 
satisfied with Northampton after living a year in 
London. It is so wild! I have heard rather in¬ 
directly, however, that it has become so noisy there 
—one actually must shout to be heard—imagine it! 
Dear, dear, I know Betty will so enjoy the quiet of 
Northampton. But she was such a vivacious child 
—so full of life. 

Clara. And the devil! 

Mrs. Warren. Yes, I am sure she will enjoy 
the quiet of Northampton. 

Clara. Gaud, ma’am, the biddies of Northamp¬ 
ton can make more noise than all them trams in 
London town! 

Mrs. Warren. Eh? What did you say, Clara? 

Clara. ( Shouting in ear trumpet) I said, ma’am, 
that Miss Betty should come back a very fine lady. 

Mrs. Warren. Yes, indeed, Clara, yes indeed. 
It was to one of the very best girls’ schools in Lon- 



JUST WOMEN 


5 


don. I was almost afraid to let her go alone. I 
really should have gone to take care of her. (Clara 
rolls her eyes heavemvard ) But her father, dear 
man, always wanted her to be well educated. He 
was a Warren, you know—a typical Warren—and 
dear Betty is so like her father. I hope it was for 
the best she went—it was sort of a memorial to her 
dear father. She always was a bright child, you 
know. A poetical sort of a child—she takes that 
from my side of the family. I shall never forget her 
first poem. I learned the first stanza. I think there 
must have been twenty or thirty in all. I sent it to 
the Times but they did not print it—art is becoming 
so dreadfully democratic—the first stanza went: 


The mist is rising from the sea, 

The birds are wide awake, 

I take my pen in hand to write 
These verses for your sake. 

So like Wordsworth, isn’t it? And the punctuation 
was perfect, so beautiful and innocent. 

Clara. Lud ! How she can talk ! 

Mrs. Warren. Eh? What did you say, Clara? 
Clara. ( Shouting ) I said nothing, ma’am. 

Mrs. Warren. (Raising her ear trumpet) I 
was sure I heard you making some sort of a noise, 
Clara. 

Clara. It—it must have been my asthma, ma’am. 
Mrs. Warren. It is the fog, Clara. Have you 
done anything for it—try goose greese and flannel 
—rub it in well—the goose grease, I mean 
Clara. Yes, ma’am. 

Mrs. Warren. Blave you heard the stage horn? 
Dear, dear — (Clara starts to go) Oh, and Clara, 
before you go will you hand me something to read— 
I’m so nervous. I must read something to soothe 




6 JUST WOMEN 

my nerves—do you suppose anything could have 
happened? 

Clara. (Taking up a magazine from the table) 
Here is the new Graphic, ma’am. 

Mrs. Warren. No —no—I’m really afraid to 
read these magazines and newspapers—they are so 
full of accidents and murders and robberies—and 
weddings. No, Clara, Ill read my Bible—it is such 
a comfort — such a comfort. (Clara hands her the 
Bible from the table and starts out) Book of Job 
—Book of Job. ( The knocker is heard) There, 
that must be Betty—and we did not hear the stage 
horn! (Clara goes out. Mrs. Warren fumbles 
with her Bible) 

Clara. ( From the door) It’s the new minis¬ 
ter’s wife, ma’am, Mrs. Pickering. 

Mrs. Warren. Eh ? 

Clara. ( Shouting in the trumpet) Mrs. Pick¬ 
ering. 

Mrs. Warren. Oh yes, yes, Mrs. Pickering — 
have her come in, Clara. And Clara—here put my 
Bible on the table in a conspicuous place—but not 
too conspicuous—just so. 

(Clara thumps down the Bible on the table and 

goes out.) 

Mrs. Pickering. (A demure, emaciated little 
woman enters from the door at the back. She bozvs) 
Mrs. Warren, good afternoon. 

Mrs. Warren. Come up to the fire, Mrs. Pick¬ 
ering. It is so damp outside. I wonder that more 
of us are not sick abed. 

Mrs. Pickering. (Rolling her eyes heavenzvard) 
God is good to his lambs. 

Mrs. Warren. Eh? Your lower limbs? Yes, 
now that you speak of it that is where I suffer most. 

Mrs. Pickering. You are so confidential. 

Mrs. Warren. One should really wear a flannel 


JUST WOMEN 


7 


underskirt these days. 

Mrs. Pickering. Yes, speaking of flannels, that 
is just what I tell my husband. We have just fin¬ 
ished packing another big bo:; of heavy underwear 
and Bibles for the starving South Sea Islanders. 
They are so illiterate! 

Mrs. Warren. Literature? No, I only read my 
Bible. 

Mrs. Pickering. ( Dismissing the misunder¬ 
standing with a wave of her hand) I heard from 
my Mary that you were expecting your daughter 
home from London on the stage from Bedford.— 
You will excuse my late call—I am so anxious to 
meet your Betty, so anxious. 

Mrs. Warren. Will you speak a little louder, 
Mrs. Pickering? I am sure you must be saying 
something though I .can’t hear a word—not too 

o o 

loud—just so. 

Mrs. Pickering. ( Shouting in the trumpet) I 
say I am so anxious to meet your Betty. 

Mrs. Warren. Yes, we are expecting the dear 
child home to-day. I wonder if anything could 
have happened—it’s such a long way from London 
to Northampton—such a very long way. 

Mrs. Pickering. But you know there is a rail¬ 
road as far as Bedford now. 

Mrs. Warren. A what, Mrs. Pickering? 

Mrs. Pickering. A railroad. 

Mrs. Warren. ( With horror and indignation) 
You really don’t mean a steam rail? 

Mrs. Pickering. Yes, indeed. 

Mrs. Warren. Oh, but I know Betty would be 
far too sensible to ride on a steam railroad—it is 
just like taking one’s life into one’s own hands. 
What can people be thinking of to ride upon such 
things? Really I’m so worried—and the coach 

should be here—the world is coming to be so tin- 

*._' 

reliable. (' The knocker is heard) Oh, can that be 


8 


JUST WOMEN 

Betty? No, she would surely come right in. One 
need not stand on ceremony in one’s own home— 
that is, not too much, just a certain amount, you 
know, Mrs. Pickering, is good for the training of 
any well-bred child, not too much you understand 
or too little—just so. 

Clara. ( Entering and shouting in the trumpet ) 

Mrs. Lawty, ma’am. 

Mrs. Warren. Oh, Mrs. Lawty, have her come 
right in, Clara—and Clara, will you bring my black 
shawl ? It is folded away in the chest—and Clara, 
be careful with it. (Clara goes out) It is a beauti¬ 
ful shawl. Mr. Warren brought it all the way from 
India—before we were married.—I want Betty to 
have it when she- 

Mrs. Lawty. ( Entering quietly and bozving) 
Mrs. Warren, Mrs. Pickering. ( Going to Mrs. 
Warren) I have brought you over a bit of mint 
jelly. 

Mrs. Warren. Thank you, Mr. Lawty—you are 
so kind. Oh, it’s jelly. Do sit down, Mrs. Lawty. 

Mrs. Lawty. My Nellie had it from Mrs. Pick¬ 
ering’s Mary who got it from your Clara that your 
dear daughter Bettv ks coming home from I ondon 
to-day. I am so anxious to see the dear child. 

Mrs. Warren. Chill—no, you don’t really mean 
it, Mrs Lawty? 

Mrs. Lawty. ( Shouting ) I say my Nellie had 
it from Mrs. Pickering’s Mary who got it from 
your Clara that dear Betty is coming home to-day— 
the dear child. 

Mrs. Warren. Yes, she is coming to-day. Did 
you hear anything else—concerning Betty, I mean, 
of course? 

Mrs. Lawty. (With deep interest) Oh, is there 
more? 

Mrs. Warren. You will pardon me but it’s a 
secret, so to speak—for the present. 




Mrs. Lawty. 
ren, there shoui 


Yes 

J v O y 


3 

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yes 
no 


But my dear Mrs. War-- 
secrets between friends. 


Mrs. Warren. But you know it is really Betty’s 
secret—not mine. 

Mrs. Lawty. (To Mrs. Pickering) Secrets are 
so disconcerting! (To Mrs. Warren) But yon 
know I am so interested in Betty and everything 
that concerns her, so interested. 

Mrs. Warren. Yes, yes. 

Mrs. Lawty. (To Mrs. Pickering) Strange 
tales concerning Betty have come down from Lon¬ 
don. She is so ambitious—socially, I mean. Oh 
dear, I hope she has done nothing indiscreet. 


Mrs. Warren. Things seem to happen so ra¬ 
pidly, I can hardly realize Betty is a grown woman. 

Mrs. Lawty. I wonder if the past year has 
changed her much. (Shouting) Changed her 

much. 

Mrs. Warren. Yes, indeed, Mrs. Lawty, yes, 
indeed—everything has changed—the world is posi¬ 
tively going round so fast that it makes me giddy. 
(Confidentially) I hear that Northampton is ac¬ 
tually to have lights in the street! 

Mrs. Lawty. Is it possible? Indeed there will 
soon be no privacy in the world. 

Mrs. Pickering. Terrible! 

Mrs. Lawty. I was reading in the Time's that 
in London they are using trams without horses 
now. 


Mrs. Warren. Eh? 

Mrs. Lawty. I say in London they have trams 
without horses. 

Mrs. Warren. Oh, dear, I wonder if anything 
could have happened. 

Mrs. Pickering. I should never risk my life 
on one! It is a contrivance of the devil—the world 
is becoming so wicked! 

Mrs. Warren. Trams without horses—steam 


10 


JUST WOMEN 

railroads ! It was wicked of me to let Betty go with¬ 
out my care—I should have gone to look after her, 
but of course- 

Mrs. Lawty. Little good that would have done. 
(Shouting) Why right here in Northampton they 
are covering our main street with a new sort of 
covering—just like glass.—I declare that I, for one, 
shall never walk on it. 

Mrs. Pickering. Nor I — when I shop I shall 
go the back way. Modern improvements indeed ! 

Mrs. Lawty. Modern exterminators! 

Mrs. Warren. Is that the knocker? I wonder 
who that can be. Clara, Clara! 

Clara. ( Entering from the hack) It’s Mrs. 
Romney, ma’am. 

Mrs. Warren. Have her come right in, Clara. 
This is a surprise. We did not think that the ladies 
of Northampton knew of Betty’s return to-day. 

Mrs. Romney. ( Entering zvith gusto) How do 
you do, Mrs. Warren. Good afternoon, Mrs. Pick¬ 
ering and Mrs. Lawty. ( To Mrs. Warren) I 
heard that Betty was to return to-day—that is I 
had a rather unauthentic report of it—you see, I 
got it from my Sadie who had it from Mrs. Lawty’s 
Nellie who got it from Mrs. Pickering’s Mary who 
had it from Clara that Betty would be home on to¬ 
day’s coach—I am so anxious to see the dear child— 
and to hear the news of London. Things really 
happen there, you know. Northampton is so an¬ 
noying and boresome at times—nothing ever hap¬ 
pens here—it is only reported to have happened. 

Mrs. Lawty. Servants are such gossips! 

Mrs.. Romney. But so unreliable ! They always 
seem to miss the essential thing—the thing of par¬ 
ticular interest, so to speak. 

Mrs. Lawty. Of particular interest? 

Mrs. Romney. Of course. It is not Betty’s re¬ 
turn that interests me so much as why she is return- 



JUST WOMEN 


ii 


mg two months earlier than she expected. 

Mrs. Lawty. There seems to be some secrecy in 
the whole affair. 

Mrs. Romney. Secrecy? 

Mrs. Warren. Do sit down, Mrs. Romney—yon 
flutter about so. 

Mrs. Romney. Flutter! Indeed! 

Mrs. Warren. Do sit down, Mrs. Romney. 

Mrs. Romney. ( Sitting ) Really I can’t stay 
very long. I have just stopped in for a few mo¬ 
ments after having tea with Lady Bloshire, a most 
interesting person. 

Mrs. Pickering. And so refined. 

Mrs. Romney. Her Ladyship is so interesting 
and knows so much of London life, you know. Her 
son is returning from London in a few days—and 
Lady Bloshire is so happy. 

Mrs. Pickering. Indeed she must be a true 
mother—she should be very happy to think that her 
sen would come back to her from wicked London. 

Mrs. Romney. Wicked, indeed, Mrs. Pickering! 
It is no such thing—London is glorious! His Lord- 
ship does not intend to stay here long—simply came 
down on business, I think her Ladyship said—one 
is so busy when one is a Lord. Lie goes into the 
House next winter you know. 

Mrs. Lawty. Fancy one caring for London when 
one can have the quiet and refinement of Northamp¬ 
ton. 

Mrs. Romney. I was raised in London—North¬ 
ampton—bah! (The ladies, except Mrs. Warren, 
who has fallen asleep, spring to their feet) Pardon 
me, ladies. Pray be seated. My temper does over¬ 
come me at times. 

Mrs. Pickering. Indeed! Temper is an attri¬ 
bute of the devil! You should do all in your power 
to overcome it. 

Mrs. Lawty. If you will pardon me, Mrs. Rom- 


12 


JUST WOMEN 


ney, I should say that you show your London rais¬ 
ing most emphatically at times. 

Mrs. Romney. Pray let us continue our most 
interesting conversation. By the by, have you met 
the new young doctor? Dr. Twing? A most 
learned young man —just down from Oxford. 

Mrs. Lawty. Indeed—and from London—young 
men are not what they were when I was a girl. 

Mrs. Romney. I am sure Betty and he would 
be such good friends. It might be a match, you 
1 row—and that would keep him in Northampton 
perhaps—we should really do all we can to keep a 
few interesting people in our town. 

Mrs. Pickering. I hope he will prove a steady 
young man. If he is there will be very little time 
for his playing around with the belles of Northamp¬ 
ton—what with new pavements and street lamps, 
horseless trams and steam coaches, not to mention 
births and deaths there will be enough to keep many 
doctors busy. 

Mrs. Lawty. ( Whispering ) Betty was far too 
vivacious for any young gentleman before she left 
for London. There is nothing more discouraging 
to a man than a vivacious wife. I do hope for Mrs. 
Warren’s sake that Betty has settled down—but 
from the things I have heard I fear she hasn’t. 

Mrs. Romney. Have you heard anything—any¬ 
thing interesting? 

Mrs. Lawty. Nothing directly. But I under¬ 
stand Betty is very popular with the young gentle¬ 
men of London and- 

Mrs. Romney. Indeed! 

Mrs. Lawty. And I understand the gentlemen 
of London are er—er, well, very different from the 
young gentlemen of Northampton. 

Mrs. Romney. (A little bitterly) Oh, you know 
it is so easy to be a saint—a Northampton saint—I 



JUST WOMEN 13 

really think it takes a rather clever person to be 
devilish! 

Mrs. Pickering. ( Protestingly ) Mrs. Romney! 

Clara. (Entering from the door at the l.) Here 
ma’am, is your shawl. 

Mrs. Warren. ( Awakening ) Eh? Whst? Oh, 
yes, my shawl—put it over my shoulders, Clara—- 
it will keep me warm—but not too warm—just so— 
pardon me, ladies, I just shut my eyes to keep out 
the light—your conversation was so interesting and 
so refined. ( The coach horn sounds. Clara runs 
to the window and looks out) Clara, come away 
from the window! 

Clara. ( Shouting in the trumpet) It’s the coach, 
ma’am, it’s the coach! 

Mrs. Warren. Is it really, Clara? Oh, ladies, 
I am so happy to know that nothing has happened. 
Clara, will 3^011 put a little coal on the fire—just 
poke it up a bit, you know—that is, not too much, 
but just so, Clara. Clara, light the candles in the 
hall — not all of them, Clara —just two. 

(Clara goes out.) 

Mrs. Romney. I am so anxious to hear the gos¬ 
sip of dear old London. 

Mrs. Lawty. How familiar! 

Mrs. Warren. (Rising and going to the win¬ 
dow) Ladies, you really must pardon me—I shall 
only look once, just a peep—I am so worried, you 
know, and so anxious—yes, there she is, ladies— 
ladies, I can hardly contain myself—the dear child 
—oh, she looks so healthy—just like her father, 
dear man, so like her father. ( She goes to her chair 
by the fire and assumes a queenly air of expectancy. 
There is a loud, clear laugh from the hall and, 

Betty. Dear, dear Clara—a lot of ladies, where? 
Oh, but you mustn’t say that, Clara—a glorious 


i 4 JUST WOMEN 

time, yes, it was ripping. Is mother in here, Clara? 
Yes yes, yes. 

(The ladies look at each other dumbfounded.) 

Mrs. Lawty. I am afraid she has not changed 
for the better. ( This in a whisper. Betty stands 
framed in the doorway. She is dressed in an enor¬ 
mous hoop skirt, lace mitts and a high poke hat. She 
is followed by Clara who carries band boxes and 
portmanteaux) 

Betty. Mother! Ladies! (She runs to her 
mother) Dear, dear, dear old mumsey darling. 

Mrs. Warren. Betty dear, you are home again 
—can it really be you, dear, dear child— you look 
so fresh and happy—and healthy. 

Mrs. Lawty. Overly healthy ! 

Mrs. Warren. So fresh and healthy—but Betty, 
dear, what have you on your face? 

Betty. Nothing, mother dear—does it show? 

Mrs. Pickering. Powder! 

Mrs. Warren. Betty dear, you see the ladies 
of Northampton are here to see you. 

Mrs. Lawty. Rather to see you, Mrs. Warren. 

Mrs. Warren. Mrs. Pickering, my daughter 
Betty—Mrs. Pickering. 

Mrs. Pickering. How do you do, Miss Betty. 

Betty. ( Courtesying) Mrs. Pickering—Mrs. 
Romney, Mrs. Lawty- 

Mrs. Romney. Betty dear, what is the news of 
London ? 

Betty. Oh, there is so much to tell of London, 
you know. 

Mrs. Romney. Yes, yes of course, London is 
much larger than Northampton. ( With a wither¬ 
ing look at Mrs. Lawty) Though some people don’t 
realize it. 

Betty. And so many lovely people. 




Mrs. Romney. 
Pickering who 


(With a withering look at Mrs. 
squirms) So many interesting 


people. 

Mrs. Lawty. ( Coldly ) But so few—er—wholly 
refined people. 

Mrs. Romney. Indeed! 

Mrs. Lawty. Betty dear, we have heard so many 
tales of you and- 

Betty. ( With a little catch of her breath) And 
whom ? 

Mrs. Lawty. And London. 

Betty. ( Glancing at her mother) Oh! 

Mrs. Romney. Did you see the queen? 

Betty. Indeed, Mrs. Romney, many times—she 
is a beautiful young girl. 


Mrs. Lawty. How slightingly 


vou talk of rov-dtv ! 


fuV 


Mrs. Pickering. London is becoming so dread- 


v democratic. 


Mrs. Warren. Betty dear, I am so glad 1o have 
you home again—so happy—I have been so wor¬ 
ried—I hope you will like Northampton better now. 

Betty. (Looking at the women and then going 
close to her mother) No, mumsey, I am sure I 
never shall. 

Mrs. Warren. You must be tired, dear. 

Betty. No, dear, not very. You see I took the 
steam rail as far as Bedford—Oh, mumsey, it was 
ripping! You surely must go to London soon. We 
went all of fifteen miles in an hour sometimes! 

Mrs. Warren. Betty, how could you? 

Betty. But, mumsey, it was glorious—just like 
flying—and mumsey, we ate on the train. Oh, it 
was such fun! 

Mrs. Lawty. Fancy one having one’s dinner 
pulled on ahead of one, like a dog chasing his tail! 

Mrs. Romney. Next we will be having beds 
on these trains. 

Mrs. Pickering. Never! 



i6 


JUST WOMEN 

Mrs. Lawty. Can you imagine one undoing one s 

bodice in such a public place? i # 

Mrs. Pickering. For shame—how can you think 
of such terrible things and speak of them aloud be¬ 
fore this young lady—and before ail of us? 

Mrs. Romney. But my dear Mrs. Pickering, 
can’t 3 r ou see that we are in a new era and that 
the past is irrevocable? 

Mrs. Lawty. Not in Northampton—thank 
heaven, here there are a few sane people. 

Mrs. Warren. Betty, did you have Clara take 
your portmanteau to your room? 

Betty. Yes, mumsey dear, three of them.. 

Mrs. Warren. Betty! Whatever possessed 
you—what can you ever do with three of them? 

Betty. They are full of clothes, mumsey, 
dresses and bonnettes—beautiful ones—pink and 
blue and lavender. 

Mrs. Pickering. Dress is a tool of the devil— 
now in the South Sea Islands they- 

Mrs. Warren. But what can you ever do with 
them all—wherever can you wear so many dresses? 
Indeed I do not know how it is in London but in 
Northampton Sunday still comes but once a week 
—now when I was your age I had a nice, a very 
nice one for Sundays, a white one for christenings 
and a black one for Northampton funerals. But I 

Jl 

suppose when one is about to be- 

Betty. ( Covering her mother’s mouth with her 
hand—lovingly shaking her finger at Mrs. Warren) 
Sh—sh—Mumsey dear, we must have more color. 
It will not be so dark and dreary in Northampton 
soon. Lord Bio shire has seen to it that we have 
street lights, just like they have in London. Oh, he 
is going to bring so many improvements to North¬ 
ampton, perhaps next year the steam rail will be 
extended from Bedford. 

Mrs. Lawty. You don’t mean, child, that we may 




JUST WOMEN 17 

have one of those horrid noisy things coming into 
Northampton ? 

Betty. Lord Bloshire is going to do everything 
to make Northampton a modern town. 

Mrs. Pickering. Modern indeed! 

Mrs. Lawty. {Sweetly) But perhaps his Lord- 
ship knows best. 

Mrs. Romney. Yes, he probably knows what we 
need more than we do ourselves. Lie has spent so 
much of his life in London. 

Mrs. Lawty. But think of the people of question¬ 
able character such a public affair might bring to 
Northampton. One will not be able to venture be¬ 
yond one’s own garden. 

Betty. But really, ladies, such things are for the 
best. Don’t you really want to see Northampton 
a modern town? 

Mrs. Pickering. Modern, my dear, but not too 
modern. Now in the South Sea Islands, you know, 
the cannibals- 

Mrs. Romney. Well, I sincerely hope something 
happens to make Northampton modern—and in¬ 
teresting. 

Mrs. Lawty. Mrs. Romney, it is interesting. Be¬ 
sides being a beautiful town it is the site of the 
Bloshires—one of England’s oldest famides. A 
most important asset I should say. ( With sarcasm') 
But then, of course, when one has been raised in 
London- 

Mrs. Romney. Betty dear, you seem to be very 
familiar with the affairs of his Lordship—is it pos¬ 
sible that you could have seen him in London? 

Betty. Yes, Mrs. Romney. 

Mrs. Romney. But surely you had no occasion 
to talk to him, Betty? 

Betty. Yes, Mrs. Romney. 

Mrs. Lawty. Girls are becoming so bold nowa¬ 
days Now when I was a girl I never—-— 






i8 JUST WOMEN 

Mrs. Romney. How interesting, and what did 
he say, Miss Betty—the time you talked to him? 

Betty. I just don’t remember all he said, Mrs. 
Romney, but of course, he was very anxious to 
hear about Northampton again—his father and mine 
were great friends, you know. 

Mrs. Lawty. I suppose even a Lord must con¬ 
descend to speak to the people from his home 
pl ace —I think it is rather impertinent that- 

Mrs. Romney. And did he speak of the people, 
the best people, of course, of Northampton, Betty? 

Betty. I remember very distinctly that he 
asked- 

Ladies. (On the very edges of their chairs) 
Yes, yes, yes - 

Betty. He asked me if all the fogies of North¬ 
ampton were still alive. 

Mrs. Lawty. Fogies—now I wonder what he 
could have meant by that—I hope it is complimen¬ 
tary. 

Mrs. Pickering. It sounds doubtful. 

Mrs. Romney. I was at tea with her Ladyship 
this afternoon—his Lordship is coming down from 
London soon. 

Betty. Yes, I know. 

Mrs. Romney. Oh, then you must have seen 
the Times—they always publish such interesting 
things about the nobilitv. 

Betty. I saw his Lordship before I left London. 

Mrs. Romney. Oh, then perhaps - 

Mrs. Warren. Betty dear, I’m sure the ladies 
will pardon you if you care to go to your room—• 
though I’m sure their conversation is most interest¬ 
ing—you must be very tired. Clara has put a little 
fire in the grate, dear. ( She calls) Clara—Clara ! 

Clara. ( Entering from the l.) Yes, ma’am. 

Mrs. Warren. Will you please see that Miss 






JUST WOMEN 


19 


Beit-'N room is cozy —arc!, Clara, don’t forget the 
hot water. 

Clara. I wont, ma’am. 

Mrs. Warren. Ladies, you will excuse Betty? 

(They all nod.) 

Betty. If you olease, ladies, I should so like to 
dress. 

Mrs. Romney. Yes, indeed, Betty, I am sorry 
you do not know more of London gossip. I would 
ask you over to tea but I am really so busy these 
days. 

Mrs. Ptckertng. I hone T shall see you at church 
—you must forgive me if I do not call again soon, 
the r e is so much to do in our foreign mission work. 

Mrs. Lawty. Good day, Miss Betty—I trust 
you will feel at home in Northampton—I shall no 
doubt see you again before the summer is over— 
Northampton is not a large place. 

Betty. You are all so kind. (She turns at the 
door and throws her mother a kiss, bozos to the 
ladies ) Au revoir, ladies. 

Mrs. Warren. Dear child, so delicate. 

Mrs. Lawty. Ugh, the impertinent little creature 
—putting on her fine airs. 

Mrs. Romney. Did you hear her talk of his 
Lordship, just as if she were real well acquainted 
with him. I suppose she will be telling us next that 
she had an audience with the queen. 

Mrs. Pickering. Of course, I do not know the 
child very well, but I do believe that it is not best 
to send girls away from home for their schooling— 
they become so bold and so vain. Did you hear her 
telling her mother about her dresses, as if clothes 
were the only thing in the world. 

Mrs. Lawty. I feel so sorry for her mother, so 
quiet and unassuming. I am afraid Betty will drive 
her to her grave before her time. Well, I hope 
she will not try her airs before Lady Bloshire, be- 


20 


JUST WOMEN 

cause—did Lady Bloshire, by any chance, mention 
her while you were there this afternoon? 

Mrs. Romney. Let me see—come to think of it, 
I believe she did say something, but I am sure it was 
something trivial. 

Mrs. Lawty. Of course. 

Mrs. Romney. I was so interested to hear about 
his Lordship that I paid little attention to anything 
«lse. It seems he is very much in love—her Lady¬ 
ship did not mention who with—however, I daresay 
some very line London lady. 

Mrs. Warren. Do you not think dear Betty is a 
little lady ? Her father, dear man, would have been 
so proud of her I’m sure. 

Mrs. Pickering. ( Shouting ) I hope it is for 
the best she went away. 

Mrs. Lawty. ( Shouting ) Indeed I hope she has 
learned something from her books. 

Mrs. Romney. ( Shouting ) She knows so little 
about London society I trust she has been diligent 
in her studies. Really I must be going, Mrs. Vv'ar- 
ren, 1 suppose you do not go out very often now but 
if you do happen to be out come in and see me 
sometime. 

Mrs. Warren. Yes, yes, but I get out very lit¬ 
tle these days—and I will have so much to say to 
dear Betty—I am sure Betty will be over, however. 

Mrs. Ramney. ( Shouting ) I shall be glad to 
have you come over, Mrs. Warren—I am having a 
tea for her Ladyship next week so you wall pardon 
me I am sure if I am too busy to receive callers. 

Mrs. Pickering. ( Shouting ) I must be going, 
Mrs. Warren, I really must. I hope Betty will 
come to church every Sunday. 

Mrs. Lawty. ( Shouting ) Good day, Mrs. 
Warren, good day. This little chat with you this 
afternoon has been most entertaining. I hope I 
shall see Betty again sometime but indeed I expect 


JUST WOMEN 


21 


to be so busy the next few weeks that I shall be un¬ 
able to do any entertaining. 

(The knocker is heard—the women look at each 

other in surprise.) 

Mrs. Warren. Yes, yes, ladies, do come in often 
now that- 

Clara. (Entering from the back. She looks at 
the women and then at Mrs. Warren as if she 
would rather not speak) It’s Lady Bloshire, ma’am 
—her Ladyship. 

Mrs. Warren. Oh, Lady Bloshire—Oh, have 
her come right in, Clara—Oh, and Clara, please call 
Betty, I know her Ladyship will be so glad to see 
the dear child. ( The ladies resume their seats) 
And Clara, tell her to dress her hair—not too much 
—just so—and light all the candles in the hall— 
—Clara, you may serve tea—tea in the Chelsea 
china. 

(Clara holds her head high as she pdsses the ladies.) 

T he Ladies. Oh, her Ladyship. Oh — ah — oh — I 
shall stay a little longer—yes, really—no—is it pos¬ 
sible ?—etc. 

Lady Bloshire. ( Bowing in doorway) Mrs. 
Warren—Ladies of Northampton. ( She talks zuith 
an air of superiority yet she is a motherly woman) 

All. ( Rising and bowing) Your Ladyship. 

Mrs. Warren. Pray be seated, Lady Bloshire. 

Lady Bloshire. Thank you, Mrs. Warren. It 
is indeed a pleasure to see you so well. 

Mrs. Warren. Yes, yes—I am glad to see you 
well, Lady Bloshire—I am feeling much better— 
happier now that Betty is home again. 

Lady Bloshire. And you should, Mrs. Warren, 
she is such a little fairy. I shall be glad to see her 







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